Um Homem Melhor
by kwirky
Summary: Walter's memories, or maybe the lack thereof, brought back feelings of great remorse, shame, fear, guilt, and, most of all, an unexplainable, barely contained rage. But who would be the one to bear the brunt of that rage when it was finally released? P/O.


**Hello all! This will be my first Fringe fic. I really hope you all enjoy it. For those of you who have been reading my CSI NY fics, you need not fear. I have just gotten back into writing after such a long hiatus. (I blame the painkillers... they killed my creativity.. but they killed the pain too, so I guess I can't complain :)**

**A/N: I was always intrigued when Walter had one of his angry outbursts. I thought to myself, 'surely there's a possible angst fic in there somewhere', and this is what I came up with.**

**Warnings: Mentions of child abuse and violence**

**OH MY GOSH, I've always wanted to say this!... No copyright inFRINGEment intended. I know you guys have probably already seen that like a hudred times, but I think it's hilarious... **

**Anyways, on with the story**

**CHAPTER ONE: Fallen**

It was quite cold outside, considering it was still early October. No one was particularly surprised by it. For the most part, the only real reaction was the slightest bit of irritation at the sight of the light dusting of snow on the ground. It was not enough to cause any sort of inconvenience, in fact, with enough sun, it would be reduced to puddles by midday. It was just a simple reminder to everyone that winter was coming quickly this year, and it was promising to be a harsh season.

The majority of children residing in Boston, children like Ella, were absolutely ecstatic. It was the first snow fall of the school year. Many were getting out their gloves, hats, and coats. They were dusting off their sleds, preparing for the snow day that they were so sure was coming soon.

The working class in the area, businessmen, bakers, the occasional federal or civilian consultant, paid little attention to the change in weather. The only change in those people's schedules was having to clear away the thin layer of snow from their windshields.

Then, there were the select few, a previously institutionalized scientist for example, whose emotions were dragged into a whirlwind at the mere sight of the snow. Their memories, or maybe the lack of memories, brought back feelings of great remorse, shame, fear, guilt, and, most of all, an unexplainable, barely contained rage.

* * *

Olivia walked into the lab, carrying her bag, as well as several thick file folders. With the help of Walter, Peter and Astrid (and she had to admit, Gene had been a big help too), she had been able to close yet another case. Luckily, this one had nothing to do with the pattern. It had just been a confused and misguided (greatly misguided) college student whose amazing intelligence had caused some unwanted results. The case was closed, and hopefully, they were all going to get at least a day or two to relax before they had to leap into action and save the world (again). But before that, Olivia had to complete the paperwork pertaining to the case, or Broyles wouldn't be happy.

Walking into her office, Olivia nudged the door shut with her shoulder, dropped her bag on the corner of her desk, and went to work.

Olivia had only finished three papers when she heard the door to the lab slam open and two sets of footsteps loudly enter the confines of the semi-secret basement lab.

Immediately suspicious, Olivia's hand shifted toward her gun, which was, as always, holstered securely to her hip. Her wariness ebbed and a small smile formed on her lips when she recognized the voices of the two men.

"Walter, I telling you, Gene is just fine." Peter sounded frustrated and slightly groggy, as though he had just woken up. Olivia's smile shifted into a smirk when she realized that he probably _had _just woken up. And if the frustration was any indication, Walter was probably the reason he was not currently still asleep, warm in his bed. "Damnit, Walter, just do what you wanted to do so we can get outta here. Unlike you, I need more than just three hours of sleep a night. And I don't appreciate being woken up on one of our rare days off because of a damn cow." Peter's voice was angry, but there was no real force behind it. Olivia could tell that Peter was telling the truth; he didn't want to be there, but if Walter had asked him to do the same thing again, Olivia had little doubt that Peter would still comply, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

Olivia could see their blurred silhouettes through the frosted glass of her office door window. She doubted they knew she was there. Curious as to how they might act while alone with one another, Olivia decided to listen for just a few moments longer.

"Peter, Gene was an integral part of solving our most recent case. You should be thanking her!" Olivia shook her head slightly in amusement at Walter's words. "I was simply worried she might get chilly with the sudden change in precipitation." Olivia tried to identify what was going on based on the shuffling and soft clatter of miscellaneous lab equipment.

All of a sudden, Walter's triumphant voice called out cheerfully, "There! All done!" There was some more shuffling.

Olivia heard Peter sigh in relief. "Wonderful. Alright, Walter, time to go ho-" There was more shuffling and then the sound of a chair being scraped against the floor. "Walter, what do you think you're doing? We are going home, _now_." While Peter's voice was gentle, almost condescending (as it always was with his father), it still left little room for argument.

Despite Peter's demanding words, Walter didn't really seem to care where Peter wanted to go. Instead he apparently deemed it an appropriate time to go on one of his senseless digressions. "Peter, Have I ever told you about my experience with a fearsome _Procyon lotor_? I was in a small town in Northe-"

"Walter! Stop this! I want sleep. I _need_ to sleep! You can tell me all about you adventures with Rocky Raccoon another time. But right now, I really don't fucking care!" Olivia frowned at Peter's tone. She had heard Peter speak to Walter like that before, but the moment of silence that stretched out afterward was uncharacteristic of either man. She was debating on whether or not to get up and try to stop a potential blow out when Walter finally responded.

"Don't you talk to me like that, boy." Olivia was surprised. Never had she heard Walter speak like that, especially to Peter. The coldness in his voice seemed to oppose Walter's usually cheerful disposition. There was a scraping noise and a loud clatter, soon followed by fast footsteps.

"Walter?" Olivia immediately stood up upon hearing that. Peter sounded uncertain, maybe even a little frightened. That was not how Peter normally spoke. Something was wrong.

Walking swiftly to her office door, she quickly opened it, only to see Peter falling backwards into a metal bookshelf full of scientific equipment along with several dozen glass test tubes, beakers, and flasks.

Olivia watched in muted horror as the back of Peter's skull made contact with the hard metal surface. The impact caused the entire shelf to topple over, bringing Peter with it. It landed with a loud bang, accompanied by many shrieks of shattering glass. Peter settled on top of the mess, eyes closed and unmoving.

Looking up, Olivia saw Walter standing there, a disturbingly cold expression on his face, looking down at his fallen son.

Olivia felt herself being propelled forward. "Walter, what the _Hell _is wrong with you!" She knelt down next to Peter's still form, her eyes scanning up and down his body for evidence of any major injury. He was still breathing. There were multiple scratches and cuts on his arms and a couple on his face, most likely from the broken glass, but what worried her most was the small pool of blood that was forming beneath Peter's head. Very clear evidence of some sort of head trauma. She looked up again about to ask what the Hell Walter had been thinking only to find him gone. She looked around, trying to see him, hoping he was still in the lab... He wasn't.

"Shit..." she muttered.

With shaky hands, she fumbled around for her cell phone and quickly dialed 911. "Yes, this is Special Agent Olivia Dunham of the FBI." She just barely managed to keep her voice calm and even, "I need an ambulance at Harvard University. I have an agent down." Okay, so Peter wasn't _technically _an agent, but if it made EMS get there faster was just fine with her. "We're in the basement of the Kresge building... No there was..." What exactly had happened? "There was... an assault" The word made her sick to her stomach, but Walter had assaulted Peter. "Yes, he's still breathing. It doesn't appear labored, but he hit his head... he's unconscious." The 911 operator informed her that an ambulance would be there in a couple minutes. She sighed and snapped her phone shut. She shoved it back into her pocket.

Looking back down at Peter, she saw his eyelids flutter slightly. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "Peter? Can you hear me?" She didn't really care that the desperation was so clear in her voice. This was Peter, and he was hurt. "Peter, please. I need you to open your eyes for me."

After a few moments Peter's eyes opened slightly. He looked at her, but he seemed to have some trouble focusing.

"Liv?" he said, his voice just barely more than a whisper.

Olivia tried to smile reassuringly. "Hey... You're gonna be alright, okay?" Her voice cracked, but she continued anyways, "You're gonna be fine, but I need you to stay awake. Do you understand? You hit your head pretty hard... You can't fall asleep on me, alright?"

Peter nodded minutely, but his eyes were already drifting shut. Close to panic, Olivia brought her hand to his face and gently tapped his cheek, trying not to jostle his head or neck, just in case there were any injuries she wasn't aware of.

The technique seemed to do the trick. He looked up at her again, this time Olivia saw the confusion and sadness in his dark blue, half lidded eyes.

"Liv?... Walter..." he trailed off.

"Peter, don't talk. We'll figure this out, but not right now. Right now, you need to stay awake. You and I both know how dangerous head injuries can be. The ambulance will be here soon, any minute."

Still clearly disorientated, Peter tried to speak again, "But... Walter... he..." His concussed mind seemed incapable of putting together a complete coherent thought, let alone expressing it in words, but his feelings of betrayal were all too clear.

"Shhh..." Olivia hushed him. "Just rest. No more talking." she said softly, her thumb absentmindedly stroking his cheek.

She looked up towards the door of the when she heard the voices of two paramedics. "In here!" she yelled, unwilling to leave Peter's side to lead them to him.

The two men burst through the doors. They took only a moment to take in and assess the situation before they leapt into a frenzy of action.

Olivia, though reluctant to move, got up and took a few steps back so that the men could do their jobs.

The older of the two medics looked back. His name tag read 'Robert'. "Ma'am? What's his name?"

"Peter." Olivia replied quietly, her eyes fixed on Peter's face. He was still awake, but he was far from lucid. "His name's Peter Bishop."

Robert nodded and looked back down at his patient. "Peter? My name's Robbie and this here is Mitch. We're here to help you. I need you to stay awake, alright?" Olivia felt the urge to start laughing hysterically, but she held it back. Robbie was speaking to Peter almost exactly like Peter talked to Walter, like he was talking to a child. Had Peter been even half way coherent, Olivia was certain he wouldn't have appreciated it.

The two men examined Peter for a couple minutes, passing medical jargon back and forth. Though she understood bits and pieces, it was mostly gibberish to Olivia.

"We're going to need the back board and neck brace, Mitch. I'm gonna get it set up." said Robert. The other man, Mitch, was gingerly wrapping Peter's arms in gauze, stemming the blood flow from the many cuts. While the blood loss was nowhere near fatal, it still wasn't good, especially in combination with the blood loss from his head wound.

With practiced precision and fluid movements, the two paramedics strapped the plastic brace around Peter's neck and carefully transferred him onto the back board. Once his spine was stabilized, they were able to tend to Peter's head wound, pressing a thick pad of gauze against the bloody mess in the back of Peter's skull.

"He's stable." announced Mitch, "We should move him."

With deft hands, they hefted Peter up onto the gurney and began rolling him towards the door. Olivia followed them all the way outside, but stopped several yards away from the idling ambulance. She watched as Peter was loaded up into the vehicle.

Robert turned and addressed Olivia, "Ma'am, if you would like, you could ride with us, there will be enough room for you to stay with him."

Olivia smiled, appreciating the man's sympathy and compassion. She desperately wanted to stay by his side, holding his hand, but she needed to do something first.

"Thank you, but no... I can meet you at the hospital. What hospital will you be taking him to?"

"Massachusetts General."

Olivia nodded.

Mitch and Robert climbed in the ambulance and, sirens blaring, they sped off.

She watched the ambulance until it turned and disappeared behind a building.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Olivia took her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Astrid's number.

It only rang once before it was answered.

_"Agent Astrid Farnsworth."_

"Astrid?" Olivia nearly yelled, "Have you seen Walter?"

_"Olivia? What's happened?"_ she asked, sensing the urgency in Olivia's voice.

Olivia took a deep breath, still trying to process the information herself, "Walter attacked Peter, Astrid." Astrid gasped, but Olivia continued, "I don't know what triggered it, but Walter needs to be found immediately. He's not himself, Astrid. At least, I don't think he's himself." What if this was the real Walter and he had just been hiding it?

_"Is... Is Peter okay?"_ asked Astrid, still not quite believing what she was hearing, _"I mean, did he tell you anything?"_

"Astrid, Peter could barely talk. He hit his head, and from what I saw, he hit it pretty hard. He's en route to Mass. Gen right now."

_"Oh my God... Are- uh... are you absolutely sure it was Walter? I mean, Walter would __never..."_ she trailed off. Did she really know what Walter was capable of, what he'd done in the past? They had all seen Walter when he had his angry outbursts. Peter never seemed fazed by them though, almost like he expected it to happen.

What kind of childhood did Peter have growing up with a man like Walter?

"I saw it, Astrid. I saw it happen. And after, it was like Walter didn't even care. I was so focused on Peter though, he slipped away." Olivia shuddered, recalling the coldness- the complete lack of anything even resembling regret or guilt.

_"I'll find him, Olivia. Don't worry."_

"Thank you, Astrid. Be careful though, alright? If you find him, don't approach him. Call me and we'll go from there."

_"I got it, Olivia."_

They both hung up.

Olivia quickly made her way to her car, eager to get to the hospital. She wanted- no, she _needed _to see Peter.

Once on the road, Olivia made one last call.

"Broyles? There... Something happened. It's Peter. He's been taken to Mass. Gen.. I need you to meet me there as soon as possible."

**I, like all the other writers on this site, crave reviews. Whether you loved it or hated it, please, just take a moment share your thoughts on the story so far. **

**Not sure how long it will take to get the next chapter up. It shouldn't be _too _long... hopefully.**

**Please Review!**

**PS... the title does mean something. It's obviously in a different language (I won't say which), but if you figure it out please keep it to yourself... I'm trying to keep it a mystery. :D**


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